Days like today make the summer worth facing.
I'm not sure when I became such a pansy when it comes to temperature. During the winter I spent in Montana a few years ago, I was constantly being reprimanded by my coworkers for not wearing (in their opinion) enough clothing, but I didn't need it. I had my jacket and fingerless gloves, and I was ready for whatever hayride through the snow that we had planned for the afternoon.
To an extent, I actually enjoyed the cold. When you can see your breath, but still feel your fingers. That level of cold where the only real word for it is "crisp." Those are nice days.
But every person has their limit, and Chicago showed mine to me. The day I spent trying to dig my car out of a snow bank in a -20 wind chill was the day I stopped loving the cold. However, this did not reveal some long-dormant love of heat. As I crawled through the hottest summer ever recorded by any state in this country, the only thing that got me through was the memory of the great weather we had last winter.
Last night, the weather said that it would be a little colder than it had been, so I set out a long-sleeve t-shirt for the run, but by the time I got out on the road, the sun was high in the sky, and long sleeves turned out to be a bad decision.
There are times when I miss the cold. I get confused when I see snow on television or my friends' Facebook statuses, until I remember that I'm simply in a different climate these days. Most likely, we've still got some cold weather heading our way. After all, the snow we had last year hit in February, so I'm not counting my chicken before it's thawed.
But I will invest in a few more pairs of shorts.
Monday's Run:
5.15 Miles
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